To be honest, the prospect of reporting on a “race realist” conference freaked me out a little bit. My imagination ran wild with visions of swastika armbands, backroom blood oaths, job-killing jokes, and wild stories of interracial rape and murder. I became paranoid as the event approached, envisioning neo-Nazis following me home to snuff out the interloper, surrounding my secluded cottage, waving torches, and setting crosses ablaze, and me leveling my .308 bravely (complete with a close-up shot of my tightening iris) to pick them off one by one—but there are too goddamn many of them!
Or maybe someone I know would see me there and be like, “Dude, why are you at a white nationalist meeting?”
It was March 2012. I borrowed a car to conceal my identity. (Super clever, right?) I also had a nom de plume printed on my name tag: Billy Joe Hill—which would show up as “Hill, Billy Joe” on the registry.
As it turned out, the American Renaissance Conference was more surreal than satanic. The event was held at a hotel in Montgomery Bell State Park, not far from my house outside Nashville. The trees were just starting to bud. The parking lot was sparse as I pulled in, and I wondered if it had been called off. Previous American Renaissance events were canceled due to bomb threats or riotous disruption by furious Antifa.
What dangerous idea were these anti-racists attempting to silence?
The AmRen website states:
“Of all the fault lines that divide society—language, religion, class, ideology—[race] is the most prominent and divisive. … Attempts to gloss over the significance of race or even to deny its reality only make problems worse. … Progress requires the study of all aspects of race, whether historical, cultural, or biological. This approach is known as race realism.”
The first thing that struck me was how normal the event seemed. Just another academic conference with a bunch of white middle-aged bookworms in a stuffy hotel. Then I turned a corner and saw a tall guy, his head clean-shaven, lift his baby from his wife’s arms and kiss her on the forehead. A small crowd cooed and doted on that alabaster angel and I remembered where I was: a sanctuary for identity politics.
The organization’s leader, Jared Taylor, walks a public tight rope between “European American advocate” and “deplorable white supremacist.” As an activist, Taylor decries the collective guilt foisted on white people in academia and mainstream media. He also opposes open borders and multiculturalism as dangerous and unworkable policies. For him, racial homogeneity is a critical step toward social harmony. And what about the Jews? Taylor once quipped: “They look white to me.”
An early American Renaissance issue reads:
“[D]ifferent races build different societies that reflect their natures, and…it is entirely normal for whites (or for people of any other race) to want to be the majority race in their own homeland. If whites permit themselves to become a minority population, they will lose their civilization, their heritage, and even their existence as a distinct people.”
This philosophy is deeply rooted in neo-Darwinian biology as applied to human populations, particularly the competitive exclusion principle. The creation mythos begins with a three-legged race through variation and natural selection, and ends up at an intercontinental medal ceremony combining IQ studies, socioeconomic success, and crime rates. (For whatever reason, penis size is usually ignored, but if you’re curious, there’s always race-specific porno.)
The typical race realist hierarchy, derived from statistical averages, looks like this:
Asians get the Gold: super-smart, barely violent
Europeans get Silver: fairly smart, fairly violent
Africans get Bronze: barely smart, super-violent
Of course, this passes over the nuances—super-duper smart Jews and ultra-violent Arabs and outliers of every kind—but you get the point. Race realists tend to see human worth through scatter plots and bell curves, as if human nature is all about quantity. As if quality is just a function of quantity. As if each of us blend into our respective categories.
To which I say: What orchard keeper measures each tree’s height without tasting the fruit? Are some not planted in richer soil than others?
Where do you fall on the autistic spectrum?
Mainstream critics refer to the race realist viewpoint as “scientific racism,” or that magic word known to every Creationist: “pseudoscience.” Unfortunately, these critics rarely make a rational counterargument beyond dismissive sound bites—and why should they? Everyone knows racists are the scum of the earth, right? So mainstream pundits and social justice warriors just demonize these guys, turning them into Boogy Men at a Black Mass. Consequently, racism is the new Dungeons & Dragons, attracting misfits and rebels to its forbidden secrets.
So what is your race’s average THAC0?
* * *
Given this climate of condemnation and suspicion, most attendees thought I was a spy for the Southern Poverty Law Center. I might as well have infiltrated the Nation of Islam, I stuck out so sorely. So I was upfront about my intentions: I’m not a white separatist, but plan to write about the lectures fairly, which I did. Yeah, I could have described them as “The New Face of Hate” or something trite like that. Sensationalism makes for a steady paycheck. But I’d say they’re more like Mormons: basically harmless in small groups, but I wouldn’t want to live in a state run by them.
Like I say, it was a strange weekend. I heard a hunchbacked Jewish dwarf in a hyper-phenotypic toupée lament the inferior genetics of Arabs and Africans. He then joked that Hitler was correct to claim there is a master race—it was the one he tried to exterminate!
A four-time House of Representatives candidate gave me a copy of his bizarre pamphlet entitled Favored Races. The first chapter is about God:
“We in the Eugenic movement are not interested in competing against Adolph Hitler or Karl Marx … We are interested in competing with Jesus Christ and Buddha for the destiny of man. … Evolutionary ethics is an entirely new understanding of man and his relationship to the universe. …
“Could it be that God is not something that was, but rather something that is to be? … As the most powerful organizing and directing force in the universe, man is the corporeal manifestation of the universe trying to comprehend and control its own destiny.”
During one Q&A, a full-blood Comanche got up and announced that the white man had won the war, that noble warriors admit defeat honorably, and Native American tribes ought to incorporate and sell their tribal identities to the highest bidder. “Can you imagine owning your own Indian tribe?”
I ate barbecue with a pudgy college kid who went on to found a White Student Union, under the slogan “Not Racist, not violent, just no longer silent.” This would prompt his classmates to shame him, harass him, and spit in his pasty face. But he would also be featured in Salon and Vice, and for a Springer second, he’d be a star.
As we broke for coffee, a dark-skinned Cuban guy explained to me that Cubans are “the Jews of the Caribbean,” hopping from one island to the next, taking over. He was quick to distinguish his people from Mexicans, though—you know, “those short, squatty brown people.” I gazed down at him in amazement.
Every race tends to self-segregate, and unless moral reproach is spread around equally, I see no reason to condemn whites for sticking with their own kind. As an individualist and explorer, I see no reason to join them, either. Some are born to keep it close to home, others are born to mix it up—it’s as if we are wired to be this way.
Besides, flesh is only the surface of the soul. In a cosmopolitan environment, affinity and enmity shift along numerous borders, such as religion, language, and individual personalities. Race is just a piece of that puzzle, one which becomes increasingly irrelevant as cultural bridges are crossed. Allow me to illustrate with a thought experiment:
There are four men.
Two are black, two are white.
They go to a lunch counter together. No one speaks. Who will sit beside who?
I bet my left pinky they pair off by race. Now, if it turns out one white guy speaks French and the other English, and the same goes for the two black guys, what happens?
I bet my left pinky (yep, still got it) they switch seats to have meaningful conversations.
When it comes time to say the blessing, however, the black Englishman and white Frenchman are Christian, and the white Englishman and black Frenchman are Muslim. Who will get whose back when the fighting begins?
You guessed it.
* * *
The conference’s capstone lecture was delivered by an anti-Islamic Frenchman. His haunted hazel eyes were flecked with odd shards of blue and green. The Cuban guy was swilling beers and talking loud as hell during the presentation, making fun of the Frenchman’s accent. After a while, an old man at the next table scolded the drunk Cuban for being disruptive. The Cuban turned on the feeble bastard and snapped, “Open your ears! You got a problem? You wanna go?!”
As soon as the Frenchman finished his talk, the Cuban stormed the podium. He closed in on the Frenchman and hammered him with the Jewish Question—some sinister business about Rothschilds and Bilderbergers. What about the Jews?!
Jared Taylor stood with his chin high and a bemused, “here we go again” look on his face.
I couldn’t make out the Frenchman’s response. For one thing, his accent was like a fucking foreign language, but also, there was this Stormfront moderator at my table who, after a few glasses of Scotch, had decided I was “like a son” to him. He growled in my ear, “I don’t trust da fuckin’ Jews.” As the Frenchman tried to defend himself (and the Jews, too, I think), dis New Joisey neo-Nazi filled me in on da Hebrews’ devious plan.
Say what you will about Jared Taylor, he’s got one thing right: multiculturalism is a madhouse.
Daily interjections: @EvoPsychosis